I’m angry that I’m a coward. I’m angry that you’re winning. I’m angry that I’m a failure. I don’t care what you say, I’m angry that you try to comfort me. Nobody knows me, they can’t mean it, they can’t understand. I know I’m spoiled, and I’m angry, and that makes me more angry. More of a failure.
I’m angry that I let myself get distracted. I’m angry that I enjoy it. I’m angry, because I don’t have time to do the things I like to do, I’m busy being angry and distracting myself. I’m angry, because I still haven’t cleaned up the dog shit on the porch.
I’m angry that you tricked me. I’m angry I believe(d) it. I’m angry I don’t know whether or what I should believe. I’m angry that I let myself not know what to believe.
I’m angry that the world is burning. I’m angry I don’t know what to do. I’m angry that people still try to sell me their world-view. Let me sell you mine. But I’m too polite. And that makes me angry.
I’m angry that I hide it behind a mask. I’m angry I think I have to. I’m angry that I am angry about whether I should hide behind a mask.
But you’ll never see it.